


Under the Influence

by spiritualmachines



Category: Hanson (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Fluff, One Shot, Other, POV First Person, Self Confidence Issues, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2019-05-24 15:02:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14956865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritualmachines/pseuds/spiritualmachines
Summary: Excerpt:“He’s your problem now, not mine.”Prompt: Under the InfluencePhoto:Click





	Under the Influence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [malfunkshon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/malfunkshon/gifts).



> *This story is from Taylor's POV.

The tension leading up to our last night in Cancun was thick enough to suffocate. In fact, if I was the type of man who carried a pocket knife, I would have tried cutting right through it in the hopes of staving off the shit storm that seemed to be developing before my very eyes.

My brothers had been acting weird all week. Well, no, that’s not true. Weird was normal for all of us, but this was something else entirely. Zac seemed even moodier and more stubborn than usual, and Isaac was a strange mixture of reticence and charming effervescence, as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to hide in his cocoon or morph into a social butterfly. As for me? I’d been trying to anticipate their moods to the best of my ability to mitigate disaster, but there was only so much I could do. And by the time the after-party rolled around—the final event of the week, hosted by yours truly—I had so much setting up to do that I couldn’t have been my brothers’ keeper anymore even if I'd wanted to.

Once the DJ setup had been assembled to my liking, I stepped outside for a drink. Zac was nowhere to be found, and Isaac was on what seemed to be his thousandth beer of the day. We didn’t exchange a single word at the bar, and that was fine by me. My voice was shot to hell as it was, and for once, I wasn’t in the mood to talk.

When the party kicked off, I resumed my spot onstage and gazed out across the crowd. Zac was still MIA, but Isaac had sauntered into the room and was standing by the sound booth with yet another drink in hand. Since it was my responsibility to entertain a room full of people for the next several hours, I couldn’t stay focused on any one person for too long, but maybe that was for the better. Truth be told, I was getting tired of Zac’s last-minute disappearing acts.

As the night wore on, I tried to let go of the stress and just have fun. And when Isaac brought me one, two, three shots in a row, I didn’t turn them down. Before I knew it, I was surprised to find that I was actually having _fun_ and that my worries from earlier had melted away. It was unusual to host an event like this without Zac, but Isaac and I were getting along so well that it didn’t matter. Hell, even Bex caved and had a few drinks with us, which certainly didn’t happen every day.

With the music pumping and the alcohol flowing, I was more than sufficiently buzzed and relaxed by the time the party drew to a close.

But all good times must come to an end, and soon it was time to close up shop. The last week had been filled with ups and downs, but I was glad that (at least for me) it had ended on a relatively high note.

“Hey, stick around and we’ll walk back together, okay?” I told Isaac, slapping him on the shoulder as the room cleared out.

He simply nodded before wandering off in search of “one last drink” as I began to break down my equipment. It wasn’t even three minutes later that I felt a hand on my back.

“You know he left, right?”

“Hmm?” I asked, turning around to face Bex.

“Isaac. He’s gone. He was talking to some people at the bar, and then he just took off in the opposite direction of the room. But he’s your problem now, not mine. I was off the clock the moment you stopped spinning. I’ve had more than enough to drink and I am not in the mood to go traipsing after him. You’re in charge of making sure he makes it back to his room tonight,” she said.

“Fantastic,” I muttered.

Just like that, my high began to dissipate and I knew I was in for a long night. When Isaac wandered off, it was never easy to track him down, and I had a feeling that with fans everywhere in sight, it would be even more impossible to find him tonight. 

First on my agenda was packing up my equipment and making sure it was safe. The last thing I needed was for it to disappear when I was out looking for Isaac. Once that was taken care of, I reluctantly embarked on my search for my older brother.

My long legs carried me all across the resort to no avail, and after making a final loop around the premises and coming up empty, I decided to give up. Isaac had either turned off his phone or let it die, because my calls went straight to voicemail. Honestly, I was more than a little concerned that he’d decided to take a midnight dip in the ocean—he wasn’t exactly the world’s strongest swimmer—but I wasn’t about to spend all night looking for him. He was a grown ass man and could take care of himself. 

In a classic case of stumbling upon something the moment you stop looking for it, I spotted someone on the beach not far away. The area seemed to be fairly secluded save for the lone figure gazing out across the water, so I figured I would give it one last try.

As I made my approach, I uttered a silent prayer that it wasn't an overzealous fan who would use the opportunity of finding me without my entourage to grope me. Lord knows I had already experienced enough of _that_ to last a lifetime. But as it turned out, my original assumption was correct, and the shadow indeed belonged to my brother.

“Couldn’t find your way home?” I remarked mostly in jest, as I lowered myself onto the bed of sand beside him.

Instead of answering right away, he brought the bottle of whisky he had stolen from God knows where to his lips and took a long drink. After swallowing, he exhaled a heavy sigh and stared at me with such sad eyes that I couldn’t help but feel for him. 

"I shouldn't feel this damn lonely, Taylor. I’ve only been away from my wife and kids for a few days. Why can't I be okay when I’m on my own? You’re always okay, no matter where you are or who you’re with or what you’re doing. Am I overcompensating? Am I really that happy when I am home with them, or have I been fooling myself this whole fucking time?" he rambled on, slurring his words here and there. 

“Whoa there, sailor. Slow down for just a minute,” I said, snatching the bottle away from him before he could do any more damage. 

He made a clumsy attempt to recover the bottle before giving up and falling backward into the sand in a very ungraceful manner. 

"I'm no sailor," he mumbled. "I can barely even swim. I’m no good at anything."

“C’mon, Ike. You know that isn’t true,” I replied, planting the bottle in the sand a safe distance away from us. 

The wind was a force to be reckoned with that night, and it was a genuine struggle to keep my hair out of my eyes, but I wanted him to see me. I wanted him to know that I meant it. This was hardly the first time he’d made such depressing, self-deprecating comments. I would probably never fully understand how or why Isaac lost so much of the confidence he’d had when we were kids, but over the years he seemed to grow less and less sure of himself. And it broke my heart, because he was an amazing person. Whether he realized it or not, he’d taught me and Zac so much—not just about the music, but about life. When we were too young to know what the hell to do in sticky situations, he led by example, showing us how to keep a level head and smile in the face of adversity. He was truly one of the strongest, kindest, and most resilient people I’d ever met, and he rarely gave himself credit for it.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it, but sitting out here all alone isn’t going to help you feel any better. Why don’t we go back to your room and watch a movie or something? Nat is already asleep, I’m sure, so I need someone else to entertain me.”

After pulling him to his feet (and keeping a firm grip on his hands until he convinced me he wasn’t going to sink right back down to the ground), I led the way back to our suite. Ike was eerily quiet as he followed behind, and every so often I had to turn around to make sure he was still with me. 

Once we entered the room, I guided him to the bathroom and turned on the shower. When he raised his eyebrows skeptically, as if he couldn’t believe I had the audacity to do such a thing, I merely plucked a fresh towel from the shelf and thrust it into his arms.

“You’re covered in sand and sea spray and god knows what else,” I said, biting back that he also positively reeked of alcohol. “You’ll feel better once you’ve showered. I’ll grab you some clean boxers.”

He must have decided that it wasn’t such a bad idea after all, because before long I heard the telltale ‘click’ of the shower door, followed by the sound of loud, drunken humming. Shaking my head, I stretched out across the bed and flicked on the TV, hoping to lose myself in something mindless while I waited. 

*** * * * ***

The sound of Isaac crashing violently into the bedside table startled me from the light slumber I had drifted into. Sitting upright with a start, I reached out to grab onto his still wet torso, steadying him so that he didn’t hurt himself in his rush to cover his naked form.

“Hey, here. Let me help you,” I said, taking his boxers from his unsteady grip so that he could step into them.

I was hardly accustomed to helping other men into their underwear—especially other men who happened to be _related_ to me—but desperate times called for desperate measures, and Ike had proven that this was definitely a desperate time. Plus, I knew without a doubt that he would do the same for me if our roles were reversed.

Once he was sufficiently covered, I eased the towel away from him and motioned for him to sit down while I crouched in front of him. Then, I carefully began to dry him off since he was still sopping wet.

“Feel better now?” I asked, trying to distract both him _and_ myself from the fact that I was running a towel all over his half-naked body.

“A little,” he said, his voice cracking as the towel swept across his torso. 

It pained me to see him like this, and I knew that if he had full command of his body and mind, he would be trying to pretend he was okay for the sake of not seeming weak. I gently climbed onto the bed behind him and ran the towel over his back, noticing how tense he was as he sat there like a statue.

“Does your shoulder hurt?” I asked with a frown, dropping the towel to the floor and pressing my fingers into the knot I could clearly see was plaguing him.

“Like the devil,” he replied.

"Just try to relax," I murmured.

Anytime Isaac expressed pain in that particular area of his body, it was difficult not to panic. It had been years since his embolism, and I knew that the doctors had long since cleared him of any health issues, but there was no guarantee that they wouldn't return. With his occasional smoking and routine drinking, it wasn’t as if he took immaculate care of himself. Not that I had any real room to talk. 

Pushing the thoughts aside, I kneaded his shoulder to release the knot and try to relieve at least some of the tension.

“You promised to always tell me when it got this bad,” I reminded him gently.

“I know. Sorry,” he admonished himself, hanging his head.

“Oh, Ike,” I said, drawing him in closer. “I don’t like hearing you so down. I don’t like seeing it, either. You can always come to me. You can always talk to me. I’m never going to turn you away. You’re my big brother, and I love you so much. I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to feel like you can come to me when you need me.”

He was silent for so long after I’d spoken that I wondered if he had even heard me at all, or if it had filtered into one ear and out the other. But then he surprised me by turning and wrapping me into a hug that was almost tight enough to crush me.

“Love you, too, Tay,” he replied, his voice muffled against the side of my neck.

If it were possible, I would have given him some of my confidence in a heartbeat. I would have given it _all_ to him in order for him to realize just how amazing he was and just how much I looked up to him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered, returning the embrace with just as much emotion. “You don’t have to be lonely anymore.”


End file.
